Dark Heralds
by Passager
Summary: Before Storm Warning. There is a traitor within the courts of Valdemar, and despite the alliance with Karse, there are those who would rather the war continued. So what can the Heralds do to save Valdemar? They break the rules.
1. Spy

_Disclaimer: This is a work of pure fiction… Valdemar and everyone in it belongs to Mercedes Lackey, only those few you don't recognize would be the product of my imagination… therefore, nothing belongs to me…_

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All it took was a single shot through the head, just between the eyes. The target never even knew what hit him. One moment, he was giving orders to one of his underlings, and the next…

The people around him panicked. The guards, well trained though they were, were momentarily stunned as their overlord toppled over with a dart through his head. Some rushed to help, but it was too late. Their lord was dead before he even hit the ground, and around him, total chaos ensued.

Satisfied with the outcome, a figure perched on one of the trees surrounding the compound watched the aftermath of the assassination, then slowly faded into the shadows. There was a report to be made, and another successful commission well earned.

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"Did you hear about the death of Lord Hastarllen? It was horrible, I tell you. Hundreds of arrows raining down on him, poor man. He never had a chance."

"Lord Hastarllen was not a likable man. His lordship may not have admitted it when he was alive, but I have it on good authority that he had many enemies."

"Did you hear? There's speculation that there are shady dealings involved. Drugs! Wouldn't be surprised to find out that Lord Hastarllen was embroiled in something illegal. Never did like the man, always had this sly look around him."

Slade tuned out the voices of court gossip and grinded his teeth in annoyance. _:Damnit__, Hastarllen was our best link!:_ he sent to his Companion in frustration, a sentiment which was echoed back with equal fervor.

Just as that lady dressed in an absurd color of pink and orange with a particularly shrill voice had announced, Lord Hastarllen _was_ involved in drugs, among other items he was smuggling, but that was the least of crimes he was suspected for. For the past few months, Slade's sources indicated that the lord had been traveling to his country house very frequently, of late. That was no surprise, considering Slade knew that the lord was smuggling state secrets across the border into Karse, and his country house was conveniently near the border. Despite the alliance forged between the two countries, there were still some who resented the changes implemented by the new Son of the Sun, and craved for the glory of the times before. The fact that Hastarllen was leaking information on Valdemaran defenses was enough to try the lord for treason, and Slade _had_ proof of his dealings with the rebels in Karse. But what worried Slade and his superiors was where Hastarllen had obtained those records in the first place. Hastarllen had to have had help. He couldn't have obtained them on his own, and that meant that there was a traitor in the palace, possibly even on the council feeding him the information. A traitor they didn't know of.

So now Slade was supposed to find out who that traitor was. That was the reason why he was attending court, as one of the courtiers and not as the Herald he was. In fact, other than the Queen, Queen's Own and Kerowyn, no one else knew he was a Herald. Not even his friends in the Circle could recognize him. Hastarllen often frequented these gatherings, and was the only link they had to the Traitor. Now he was dead. Weeks of investigation and planning gone with a simple throw of a dart. It was enough to make any man want to lash out in frustration, and it was all Slade could do to restrain himself from doing exactly that.

_:Patience__, __Chosen__. The Traitor must be feeling the pressure and ordered Lord Hastarllen's death. He is not thinking rationally now, and will make a mistake. We _will_ catch him.:_

_ :Weeks, Dartha. Weeks. Now we have lost the only connection to the Traitor and weeks of work wasted.:_

_ :I wouldn't think so. We must have been getting close, close enough for him to panic. And now we must concentrate on finding the person hired to kill Lord Hastarllen.:_

Dartha was right. His next logical step should be to look for the killer, slim though the chances might be. Court must be numbing his brain if wasn't thinking of the possibilities after this setback.

_:Court__ has a tendency to do that to a person,: _Dartha teased. _:And__ to think that you still have a whole day to spend in there!:_

Slade held back a grimace, and smiled courteously to one of the ladies. _Damn and blast,_ he thought, wishing profusely that he could just get out of the itchy court garb and into his comfortable Whites.

"Slade! Just the man I wanted to see. I say, you're always up to date with the news, what have you heard about the murder? Hastarllen? Shot in his own home, can you imagine? Next thing you know we'll be murdered in our beds! What is the world coming to?"

Forcing a smile of interest on his face, Slade prepared for another long day of court.

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_So how was it? Good? Bad? This is my first attempt at Fanfiction, so please review!!!_


	2. Assassin

_Disclaimer: This is a work of pure fiction… Valdemar and everyone in it belongs to Mercedes Lackey, only those few you don't recognize would be the product of my imagination… therefore, nothing belongs to me…as usual…_

_I know that this chapter doesn't seem relevant to the 1st one, but my wayward mind decided to come up with separate scenarios. They will tie in together later. I hope._

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Even with the hundreds of people who thronged the square, prepared to have fun at the celebration, it really wasn't too hard to identify her target. The man seemed enamored with bright and garish colors. Even when most of the celebrants wore colorful and dazzling clothing, his was the most…impressive.

_ You could hardly miss that blinding combination of orange, pink and red, _Kalin thought to herself, as she silently but surely armed her dart. _He is making it almost too easy._

Lord Javeranondin of Hollingsdown. _Gods, his name is almost as impressive as the clothes he wears!_ She thought wryly, casually positioning her target within her line of sight. She didn't want to draw attention to herself, though in a crowd like this, most people didn't spare her a second glance. A quick look around made sure that no one was paying her close attention as usual, and making use of the opportunity, she raised the dart to her lips and blew, and watched with satisfaction as the tiny needle hit Lord Javerathan at his neck.

_ Ooo, that must have stung!_ She gloated with glee when the lord in question yelped and brushed away the needle, thinking that he must have been stung by an insect. _Just give it a few more minutes, and _My Lord_ will never know what in the world 'hit him'. Pardon the pun. _It was all she could do to control her giggles and had to excuse herself to a quiet corner, once again, without drawing too much attention to herself.

It was wonderful to get commissions like this one, where she didn't have to kill anybody. _Not like the last one._ In this case, she had been hired to make a fool of Lord Javeranondin on a dare made by one of his friends. A practical joke, as it were. _Though with friends such as those, one certainly doesn't need enemies!_ The needle had been dipped in a mild and relatively harmless poison. This one would make the target act like a drunk, and had the side effect of making them say whatever was on his mind.

_ Definitely going to be very entertaining to watch._ Kalin grinned when she noticed the lord stumble a little. The lady he was with expressed concern on his suddenly unstable condition, at which he seemed to make a rather lewd reply and earned himself a rather tight slap.

Kalin almost choked at his dazed expression, which immediately turned into alarm as he realized what he had just said, and chased after the lady, trying to apologize, ignoring the stares and frowns coming his way. An indignant shout rang across the square later when Lord Javeranondin made another bumbling comment to his lady.

_ Oh, I wish I could have heard what he said to her,_ Kalin thought impishly, trying to muffle her laughter, shrinking into the shadows and hoping that no one was looking in her direction. But she needn't have worried. Everyone was drawn to the scene Lord Javeranondin was making, which now included him trying to sing a ballad (off key, of course) and dancing to whatever he was wailing at the top of his lungs. It was rather comical, especially since the lord seemed to be trying to balance himself on one foot and waving an arm wildly in the air.

_ What is he…Oh, he's trying to serenade his lady. That's so sweet!_

But the lady in question didn't seem to think so. It was obvious that she was embarrassed, and was doing her best to push her way through the crowd that had gathered around her and Lord Javeranondin, but with little success. The poor lady was frantic to get away from there that she didn't realize Lord Javeranondin was behind her, and shrieked in outrage when something he said (or did, Kalin couldn't tell at that distance) made her furious enough to swirl around and give him a good punch in the nose. At that particular display, the crowd parted like a wave as she ran past them, leaving the lord sitting on the floor caroling at the top of his lungs again.

Kalin felt sorry for the woman, but oh, the look on Javeranondin's face when he was slapped was priceless, and the dancing! She hoped her employer was around to appreciate this very hilarious performance. Why, he was talking to himself now, and his words were slurred. He is going to pass out soon, she predicted. And sure enough, he slumped to the ground and started snoring. A few of the gathered gentlemen shook their heads while the ladies watched in horror at the now-prone figure lying on the ground. One of the gentlemen sighed and hefted Javeranondin to a quiet corner. Even over the din of the crowd, Kalin barely heard him mutter about the consequences of having too mush drink and having no head for it.

She grinned to herself. _Well, it's time to go and report. Best get out of here while nobody's noticing._ She told herself. Entertainment's over. She turned, and suddenly found her way blocked by something solid. She let out a surprised squeak and took a step backward, her hand surreptitiously going for her hidden dagger, and looked up at the face of one of the lords.

"What were you doing?" The man growled.

"Wh…what? Milord. I was just going to refill my tray, Milord." Kalin gestured her empty tray, part of her disguise for the evening. No one paid any attention to the servants, she knew. That was why she was dressed up as one of the waiters.

"Oh, no. That was not what I meant, boy."

Another part of her disguise was that she was dressed as a young boy, that way, no one would connect the event tonight with the 'real' her.

"Then, wh...what, Milord?"

He moved quickly, and before Kalin knew what he was doing, he had pulled out her dart from her pocket, and his arm was holding hers tightly. "I mean this," and waved the damning evidence in front of her. "Who are you? Who sent you?"

For a while, Kalin panicked. _Godammit__, I never noticed him!_ With her free hand, she slammed the empty tray into the lord, which he instinctively block, freeing her. After giving him a hefty kick at the shin, she immediately hid herself while he was otherwise distracted. _This is bad,_ she told herself. _ This is very bad. He shouldn't have caught me. I'm going to have to be more careful in the future. Overconfidence is going to get me killed._

She could hear him cursing somewhere nearby, and kept herself still as a matter of training. He would never know that if he had just reached out his arm, he would probably be patting her head.

When he finally limped off, still muttering under his breath, she waited another few more minutes, just to be safe, and slipped out of her hiding place and into the shadows.

_ That was fun,_ she decided. _Even with the last part. _Assassins rarely took time to enjoy their skills like that. This was going to be one of her favorite assignments, as this time, she didn't have to kill anybody.

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_:Damn__! Didn't you see anyone come out this way?:_

Slade bit back an oath as he limped out to the courtyard, where Herald Kerowyn was waiting, partially concealed by shadows cast by firelight. No one else was about as people were still celebrating.

"Not that I saw." Kerowyn emerged from the shadows, noting with concern as Slade limped toward her. "What happened to you?"

"Did you notice that commotion out at the square just now, Lord Javeranondin?" at Kerowyn's nod, he continued. "Well, he wasn't drunk. I think he was drugged."

"Why do you say that?" Kerowyn was all business now, and listened attentively as Slade reported.

"Caught one of the page boys with a blow dart in the alley there. He kicked me in the shin and ran off when I question him. I thought he came out this way."

"I saw no one." Kerowyn was striding back towards the alley where Slade had emerged. "Maybe he's still in there."

"No, I checked. There's no one in there now. Damn! How could he have just vanished like that?"

"Describe him."

Slade closed his eyes and tried to recall what he remembered of the boy. The trouble was, the alleyway had been dark, all he had were impressions. "Boy, slight build, dark hair. He was dressed in servant's livery. Must be twelve or so, his voice hadn't broken yet."

This time it was Kerowyn who cursed. "That fits just about half the pages and servant boys we have in the palace!"

Slade grimaced. "I hate to bring this up, but he might not even be one of our servants. The boy could have stolen the uniforms from any of the storerooms. Damn, I'd like to know how a boy that young got so good with that dart. He was so precise. Even in that crowd, his aim never wavered."

"Huh. Any link to Hastarllen? He was murdered by a dart as well. Poisoned"

Slade's response was a growl in frustration. "Hellsfire! I'm going to be keeping an eye out for that runt. Next time, he won't be running off that easily."

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_Reviews!!! My humble self is ecstatically jumping for joy… More! More! More!_

_etcetera-cat__: aww…shucks…glad you think it's good… my first attempt at fanfic (heh heh heh!) at any rate, I know my stuff needs tweaking, and I'll definitely work on it ;)_

_Breezefire__: Hmm… You have a point there… I'm ashamed to admit that I've not really developed the characters yet. But let's just say that Slade is the younger son of a minor noble, and is accepted at court. The circumstances of him getting Chosen were mostly kept under wraps since he was already involved in his 'career' when Dartha decided to make life much more interesting for him ;P_

_JoeyStar x: hey hey hey! always nice to get compliments... read on!_

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	3. Burned Mission

_Disclaimer: The __kingdom__ of __Valdemar__. Owner: Mercedes Lackey. Current storyline: mine. –Ish. _

_Sorry for this so very late update. Imagination is not cooperating. :-(_

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Fun was over. It was time to return to serious business once again. The job she did on Lord Javeranondin a week ago had been very satisfactory, and her employer at that time had been chuckling as he handed over her pay.

"Jolly fun, that was," the lord had said. "Jave won't be boasting about his head for drinks for a long time yet! Poor fool. I wonder if Lady Lilian is receiving any visitors today? I have half a mind to visit her."

Kalin had ignored the question, remembering that Lady Lilian was the same lady who had been offended in the square by Lord Javeranondin's antics. She pocketed her pay and left quietly, leaving the lord still chuckling in mirth.

Now, she had a different commission. One that was much more serious, though not an assassination. It involved a merchant, rich with ill-gotten wealth. She was to obtain proof of a recent transaction which could tie him to a rather delicate business involving smuggled goods. And perhaps, to deliver a warning.

Kalin was a little curious as to how her current employer had found out about the merchant's indiscretions, but kept her questions and suspicions to herself. Her set of sources confirmed that the merchant was indeed involved in various shady dealings, slavery in particular. Had her employer wanted Kalin to kill the man, she would have had no qualms about assassinating him.

Squeezing silently through a small window, left open no doubt because the servants thought that nobody could possibly fit through the tiny window situated so high off the streets, Kalin stealthily made her way to the merchants' office. Before her assignment tonight, Kalin had familiarized herself with the staffs' routines, and noted when all of them would be sleeping. The merchant himself rarely stayed up late. She had been here before, posing as a servant, and had familiarized herself with the layout of the building.

The door to her left would lead into the merchants' bedroom, where he was no doubt sleeping, and to one next to it, directly in front of her was the room she was aiming for. The moment she touched the doorknob, she froze. Instinct telling her something wasn't right. The door was ajar, and she could hear faint sounds of paper rustling. As she peered warily into the room, she noted with surprise that the merchant was seated behind his table, mumbling softly under his breath. He should have been sleeping by now. The room was in disarray, and he seemed more than a little anxious, running his hand uncharacteristically through his thinning hair every so often.

"What's the matter, Sal?" A soft voice, coming from the other side of the door surprised Kalin that she almost gasped. Damn, she hadn't realized that there was another person in the room with the merchant! "Misplaced the rocks? You know that our mutual acquaintance would be most displeased should he find something amiss."

The merchant, Sal, cast nervous looks to the speaker, and cleared his throat timidly. "I…one of the servants must have filched it, milord. They were to clean this room…"

"That is not an excuse, Sal," the voice softly purred. "You must know that you ought to be more careful with valuable stones such as those entrusted to your care." Kalin felt the hairs on her nape raise. There was something more than mockery in that tone, some thing dangerous, and it seemed that she was not the only one to realize, for the merchant's stutter became more pronounced. "B…bu…I d…don't…can't find them! P…please! I'll…I'll get them tomorrow—"

Kalin heard a chuckle, and found nothing amusing in it. "You know the punishment for failure, don't you, Sal? You have been most…disappointing."

All the while, Kalin could see the merchants' face turn ashen, and beads of perspiration gathered at his forehead.

"It's quite a pity, Sal, for up till now, we have been most…impressed with your devotion to our cause. But your mistakes of late—" the speaker made a sound of displeasure. "After due consideration, we have decided to, shall we say, _release_ you from employment."

The merchant went as pale as sheets as blood drained from his face. "P…please, no—" he croaked.

_Snick._ There wasn't any warning. The merchant was cut off in mid-sentence, with a dart sticking out his right eye. He slumped backwards onto his chair, the look of utter shock and abject terror frozen on his face.

It took all of Kalin's training to keep herself quiet, whoever had just killed Sal was still inside the room, and she didn't want to bring any attention to the fact that she was outside. After a few silent breaths, she saw a quick shadow glide over to the dead merchant. "Tsk, Sal. Too bad you became… expandable. You really should have been more careful" That was said with a smirk, then Kalin heard a dull thud and a silent splash, and a sharp smell emerged from the room. A quick flare of light temporarily revealed the sharp features of the man, then it dropped onto the merchant's cluttered table. It immediately burst into flames. "Pleasure doing business with you. It's been an—enlightening experience."

Kalin shrank back into the shadows as the fire grew bigger and bigger. The man strode out of the door, his profile again temporarily silhouetted by the flames behind him, and the fire drew Kalin's attention to the glint on the man's finger. A large gold ring, shaped as the head of a beast, it's jaws gaping open, with a red ruby between its teeth. That was all Kalin managed to see, before the figure disappeared down the hallway. A crash in the study reminded Kalin of the fire, and a quick look into the room told her that nothing would be left by the fire within a few moments. Whatever that smell had been, it must have been some liquid that burned quickly. Nothing was left. Time for her to go. She wouldn't be able to complete this assignment. Someone else seemed to have beat her to it.

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_Darn… storytelling is thirsty work! I really gotta pay tribute to those who manage to produce new stories on very regular basis. And wonderful ones too! _

_Oooohh__… begging__ for reviews. Be kind. Please._


	4. Problems and more problems

_Disclaimer: Don't own Valdemar. So Sad. Wouldn't mind staying there, though. :)_

_Another reason for being So Sad: no reviews at all…:( Nevermind… will work hard at writing review-worthy fiction… I hope._

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Another death. Another set of investigations. Slade's fellow heralds were feeling the pressure bearing down from irate councilmen and hysterical courtiers. This time it was the murder of a high-profile merchant. His house had been set aflame last night, and there had been nothing left but charred remains. That it was arson was no surprise, though what did come as a surprise was why anyone would have wanted to harm the jolly merchant, no one could guess. Sal, as he was familiarly referred to by his customers, had been a friendly soul, and the pieces of jewelry he traded were both exquisite and unique. The ladies of the court especially lamented his loss.

_Unless they knew what other 'business' our Sal was involved in._ Slade thought wryly. It was frustrating to come so close each time, yet have his lead just vanish from under him. It was as if he was always two steps behind in this race to ferret out the traitor.

There had been rumors of smuggling and slavery in the less savory district of Valdemar. Children had been mysteriously disappearing off the streets. Not many, and not all at once. But even the street urchins were becoming leery of traveling the streets alone, especially in the dark. What made Slade interested was that some of the items smuggled included "papers of great importance". Slade was sorry that he had not been able to cultivate a contact among the children, but they were as wary of him as they were of the constables, mostly because he was a nobleman.

_:And__ one who is unable to act, too!:_

_:Too__ true, horse.: _Slade agreed with Dartha with a semblance of amusement. _:Easy__ enough for me to act the fussy courtier, that doesn't take much brains. But those children are a perceptive lot!:_

If only he could find a connection between Hastarllen and the gem merchant. If only he could find out where and how they had gotten their information, for like Hastarllen, Sal wouldn't have been able to operate his unsavory business without some informative and influential help. _The kind of help that only those on the council seat could provide._

Slade gave a gusty sigh. If only _he_ had more information.

He had made an attempt to seek out the serving boy who had darted Lord Javeranondin a month ago, but gave up when the boy seemed to have disappeared into thin air. After a while, that incident became insignificant when he found out that along with state secrets, children were also smuggled across the border to be sold as slaves.

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_Well……? Whatcha think?_


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